


end of the rope

by liesmith



Series: stray (fake chop) [6]
Category: Cow Chop
Genre: Fake Chop, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, kinda sorta its more like aleks is just hurt and james is just mad but he helps him out anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 10:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11781246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: this isn't his favorite way to visit james, but sometimes aleks needs helporaleks is reckless and james is frustrated





	end of the rope

He doesn’t mean to get James mixed up in his crime shit, but when he shows up at two am with short breaths and shaking hands that are held to his chest, bleeding through the white tank he’s wearing, Aleks doesn’t feel too bad. He needs someone and all he knows is James, who just frowns but steps aside and let’s Aleks in, runs a hand through his disheveled bed head. His hair’s getting so long; Aleks wants to run his fingers through it. Not now, though. Not when he’s swaying on his feet, already beginning to struggle to keep himself upright.

James tries to grab his arm, but decides not to, goes for his waist instead, decides not to, and then just lays his hand on the small of Aleks’ back and starts guiding him towards the bathroom, still quiet the whole time. Aleks wants to apologize, but his throat’s dry and he’s afraid of speaking anyways, of how shaky his voice will be. He might even cry; how fucking embarrassing would that be? Instead, he just walks, sits down on the edge of the bathtub, and looks up at James, eyes locking, and hopes James sees his plea to not ask, don’t talk to me about tonight, just help me, and-

 

James exhales, pinches the bridge of his nose, and starts cleaning Aleks up, which is hard enough because he doesn’t want to extend his arms, or let James touch him, really, but he ignores his instinct of run and flee and hide, let’s James start cleaning him off. All the bloods making him dizzy and Aleks screws his eyes shut, trying hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can’t, not with the way it makes his chest ache so much. Fuck, were his ribs broken? Can’t be, maybe just bruised, but it hurt so bad, and Aleks can feel himself slipping away from consciousness.

When he comes too, he’s in James’ bed, blankets thrown haphazardly over him. He doesn’t trust himself to sit up, not with his pounding headache, but he hears footsteps and his instinct is to run and fight, starting to get up off the bed despite how dizzy he gets from just sitting up, but it’s just James, with a glass of water and aspirin, laying a hand on his shoulder to push him back gently.

He doesn’t speak, but Aleks can feel the glare, and he just takes the aspirin and the glass. Almost misses his mouth with both, but manages, and swallows the pills down a dry throat.

“What the fuck, dude?”

Of course he has to ask. At least, Aleks is slightly more coherent than last night. Though, instead of answering, he just lays back down, covers his face with his arms, breaths still short. “I dunno. I fell down some stairs.”

“If you’re gonna be an asshole, I’m leaving.”

“Where? It’s your place.”

James is quiet, so Aleks knows he’s trying to think of a comeback and can’t, and feels mildly smug in his sorry state. Doesn’t last, though. Never does.

“You can’t keep showing up here looking like shit because you can’t take care of yourself and want to fight everyone.”

“I wasn’t fighting _everyone_ , James. I was just trying to scam out some drug dealers and they figured it out. Smarter then I thought they were. If you think I look bad, you should see the other guys,” Aleks tries to joke, but it falls flat, only because it’s true. He definitely killed a man last night, but he can’t remember how. Was it just one guy? Two? He can’t remember anything, last night’s all fuzzy and grainy, dissolving into blacked out parts, “it’s totally fine, dude. I got the money, _and_ the drugs.”

“Fuck you.”

He deserves that, and he deserves the door slam when James leaves. Fuck. Aleks rolled onto his side and curled up, throwing the blankets over his head to block out the sun. 

* * *

 

When he thinks he can actually get up, Aleks struggles to his feet, and shuffles, slowly, to James’ bathroom. Looks at himself in the mirror, and frowns. Split lip, black eye. Looks at his body, frowns harder. Chest is wrapped tight, knuckles even tighter, and there’s just bruises… everywhere. God, he looks like shit. Deserved it, though. He was playing a dangerous game, and even if he won the battle, no way is he ever gonna win this war.

After taking care of himself, he leaves the bathroom, leaves the bedroom, and finds the apartment… empty. Lonely. Not even Ein is here, which makes Aleks’ chest ache in a weird way. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen, where a hastily scribbled note is written and sat on the counter in an attempt to look nice and folded.

_out. don’t fucking leave or i will kill you. just stay put._

Doesn’t tell him anything except an empty threat, but Aleks does what he’s been told to do, anyways. Lays on the couch, because sitting hurts more then anything, and just watches television. His stomach grumbles in protest, but he can’t imagine stomaching anything right now. The television, even on the lowest volume, is still loud and makes his head ache, but it’s better than being in James’ bed, remembering how James is not there, and how mad he is, and fuck, this sucks.

He falls asleep, again, because that’s just what you do when you’re immobile for the most part, and Ein wakes him up with a cheery, if you can call it, bark and a lick to his face. Aleks swats at her, squinting at the corgi and finding himself so, so happy she doesn’t try to jump up on the couch. Might be the stubby legs, though. Legs enter his view next and Aleks carefully turns his head up to look at James, who only looks pissy still, and attempts a smile.

“Sup.”

“Fuck you,” James says, though it doesn’t have that bite from earlier, “what have you been doing?”

“Not dying,” Aleks supplies, giving James a thumbs up, which is only met with a glare. Guess he’s still not in the laughing mood, “... I dunno. I just laid out here. Your bed is lumpy.”

And lonely, and it makes Aleks ache in a way, but James doesn’t say anything biting back. Aleks thanks God for that.

“I got you soup. Chicken noodle.”

“I dunno, I don’t think I should-”

“You’re fucking eating it.”

And that’s that. Aleks just offers another thumbs up, and watches as James sets a plastic bag on the table. Must be the soup. Aleks sits up slowly, wincing as he leaned over to take the bag. Unwraps the soup very delicately, opens the lid, and just looks at James, who is standing there with his arms crossed over his chest like a pissy mom waiting for their clearly not sick kid to fall for the bait and confess that they haven’t been sick at all, just wanted to stay home.

Except Aleks is actually sick, and James just genuinely wants him to feel better. Aleks doesn’t know what hurts more; that or his whole body.

So he eats for James, even though his stomach is flipping at the idea of putting food in it, and it… tastes good, like Aleks hasn’t had food for days, and he really hasn’t. Not actual food, at least. He has to keep himself from just devouring the whole thing in a couple of minutes, taking slow bites and timing 60 seconds between each one.

It satisfies James, and he walks away, going to the kitchen to bang around in there and make Aleks’ eyes rattle in his skull.

He deserves it. 

* * *

 

Two days later, Aleks feels slightly more human. He even gets to shower, though James supervised from the toilet seat, and wraps his chest back up when he gets out and is dry enough. His knuckles still look like shit, but they aren’t cracked and bleeding, so Aleks considers it a win. He can pretty much breathe normally now, which is also a win, but his chest still hurts like a motherfucker if he turns just slightly.

It’s late on the third night, and James is actually laying in bed with him, and Aleks just watches him for a couple of moments. He’s looking at his phone, reading something, and the faint glow in the dark room is enough to make Aleks’ heart beat, just a little harder. He’s always liked James, maybe more than he likes to let on, and…

Why not now?

Aleks leans up, kisses the corner of his mouth, and James turns his head to say something, and Aleks kisses him for real, and is… mildly surprised when James doesn’t just pull away immediately. Even more surprised when James actually kisses back and a hand cups the base of his skull, and Aleks pulls back then, squinting at him.

“Dude.”

“What? Fuck, are you kidding me right now?” James is staring at him, brows furrowed, and Aleks reaches up to do what he wanted to do that first night; run his fingers through his hair, tangle them in the curls. James doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t look immensely happy, which is fine. Aleks knows his moods like the back of his hand. He sounds pissy, but he’s not, and Aleks just kisses him again. James sighs against his mouth but kisses back, his own fingers playing with the soft hair at the nape of Aleks’ neck, and Aleks finds himself whimpering, body shuddering at the sudden tenderness.

Shit. Kind of like blood in the water, and James is pulling back, has that look on his face that says he has more up his sleeve, but he… doesn’t do anything. Just lets his fingers muss the back of Aleks’ hair, and James kisses his forehead.

“Please stop this shit.”

Aleks swallows around the lump in his throat. “Sure.”

The lie is thin and they both know it, but James takes it for now, and Aleks just lays his head on his chest, curls as close as he can without causing himself pain into the warmth of James. 

* * *

 

He shows up three months later with a gunshot wound in his shoulder and bleeding like a stuck pig all over the place. James just stares at him and Aleks is expecting the door to slam in his face, but he steps aside, just like last time.

Aleks doesn’t mean to get James involved, but it’s still him holding the gun out, and it’s still him showing James how to avoid kickback, and it’s still him standing behind James, watching him shoot a man.

This is just how life is now.

**Author's Note:**

> potential fc beginnings??? i dunno i drank a redbull and wrote this yall. just like i like brett not being actual apart of slaughter bois i like james being kinda sucked into this bc aleks won't stop showing up all fucked up on his doorstep every week
> 
> off topic - im taking commissions!!! i need a new laptop very badly. message me at princestarlord on tumblr for more information


End file.
